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Walking in the valley dread; I feared.
The darkened path, attired burning red,
By fires lit by hate, or love; alike
Strife causing ways, that lead to edge and over.
To realms beyond the ken of friends’ support.
Where mind and wit outplay’d by Fate; and Things
Withhold, decry, to lend a helping hand.

I walk the valley in His shadows cast
Secure. I fear no evil; He walks with me.

 

 

Yes, its a poem. :p
Yes, in iambic pentameter
I felt like doing something different.
Fate gave me this

 

Don’t tell me its rubbish
It’s the first time I’ve written one
Be constructive instead.

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One Comment

  1. not bad moh, i’m impressed.. so this is what happens when you stop thinking too much, huh?!


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